


Cover Me

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: First Times, Humor, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 04:45:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,993
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/794100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just going about normal police business begins to have a...stimulating effect on Blair.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cover Me

**Author's Note:**

> underscores denote italicized words

## Cover Me

by Sisters in the Dreamtime Diana DeShaun and rac

Author's webpage: <http://netcafe.simplenet.com/>

Author's disclaimer: Neither of us own them, Pet Fly and UPN do...more's the pity. (Both of us would really like to "own" Blair, collar and all...)

* * *

Cover Me  
by Sisters in the Dreamtime  
(Diana DeShaun and rac)   
January 1999 

The woods were alive with the brilliant colors of sumac and the chattering of migrating birds...and something else. Eyes widening in horror, Detective Jim Ellison peered into the autumnal forest. "Shit! Sandburg's coming." 

"Hmm? Sandy's here?" From her position to his left, Detective Megan Connor tried to peer around Jim Ellison's broad shoulders to see. 

Jerking her back into place, none too gently, Jim growled, "Stay down, Connor! You're as bad as Blair. What in the hell is he doing wandering around out there?" 

The he in question, Blair Sandburg, continued his slow ambling approach, mumbling softly to himself as he flashed in and out of view among the trees. "Yo! Jim! You here?" 

Captain Simon Banks suddenly appeared behind Connor and hissed, "He's been up for almost forty-eight hours. I thought you said he was home asleep!" 

Coloring slightly, Jim shrugged and said, "No. I said he was asleep. I didn't say he was at home." 

"Then where was he?" 

Rolling his eyes, Jim admitted grudgingly, "In the truck." 

"In the truck!" Megan gave a creditable go at shrieking and whispering at the same time. "You left him asleep in the truck? In his condition?" 

Well and truly caught, Jim had the grace to flush slightly. "Don't you think I know that? He was wired, having trouble relaxing, so he asked to ride along. Besides," he retorted, "I was only supposed to be here for half an hour, remember? As I recall, it was your bright idea to transform a simple little shooting contest into some kind of Commando Raid." 

"You didn't have to go along with it!" Megan rounded on him hotly. "We all knew he went straight from all those finals to that stake-out. Everyone would have understood. But, oh no, far be it from Mr. Macho Ellison to turn down a challenge. I can't believe you just abandoned Sandy like that! He's your partner!" 

Crawling forward until he was between the two combatants, Simon grabbed them both by the shoulder in a steely grip. "This is getting us absolutely nowhere. Joel's team will shoot first and argue about whose team Blair is on later. And since Rafe brought Rhonda along, you know who's next up for a new player. Dammit, they're probably drawing a bead on him right now. Jim, you've got to go get him." 

"Me? Why do I have to go get him? If Connor here is so concerned about him, why can't she do it?" 

"You have got to be joking. Why in the world that sweet man continues to live with you is beyond me." Holding up a hand when Jim tried to speak, she continued, "No. Don't say a word. You get out there and protect your mate!" 

As Simon chortled around the cigar stub clamped firmly between his teeth, Jim turned a dull, brick red. Opening his mouth, he thought for a moment, then closed it again. She was right. Sandburg was his responsibility, even if they weren't the kind of mates that Connor was insinuating. "Fine. But I'm not bringing him back here. He's too far away; we'd never make it. I'm going to circle around and grab him. When you two see me make the move, it's up to you to keep those other guys too busy to take pot shots at us." 

"Gotcha." Megan was suddenly all business. Then she spoiled it all by giving Jim a saucy wink. "You just take care of Sandy." 

"Right," Simon concurred, grinning again. 

Growling low in his throat, Jim turned his back on his two trying teammates and began to creep towards Blair. During his rather lengthy conversation with his cohorts, Blair had not been idle. He had paused in his slow weaving amble to admire a bunch of shockingly purple berries clustered around the base of a fallen tree. As he bent low at the waist to get a better view, a bright purple splotch appeared on the tree just to his left. 

Until that moment, Jim had entertained the thought of leaving his partner to his nature pursuits, reasoning that he would stand less chance of causing trouble that way. But then, some distance behind Blair, he saw a rustle of movement. Zeroing in, Jim saw Taggart, Brown and Rafe in a huddle, no doubt trying to determine how best to use the young police observer to their advantage. Jim didn't bother tuning his hearing into the laughing trio, because at that moment, Rafe stood to his full height, stepped behind a tree, and took aim. 

Leaping to his feat, Jim sped forward with a loud cry. "Blair!" 

As other shouts seemed to echo through the woods, Blair just had time to straighten up and turn towards his roommate in shock when Jim hit him at full thrusters. With a loud '_ooff!_', Blair Sandburg hit the ground behind the fallen log, with two hundred pounds of Sentinel on top of him. Before Blair could even attempt to draw a breath to ask Jim what the hell was going on, something whirred mere inches over their heads to land in the berry bushes with a splat. 

Eyes wide, Blair lifted his head just enough to see bright purple paint dripping from the berries onto the fallen trunk. "Uh-oh." 

"Yeah, uh-oh." Jim made no attempt to move, glaring down into the vaguely out-of-focus blue eyes of his partner. "I can't believe you just walked out here! If Simon and Megan hadn't have been here to cover me, you'd have been walking around looking like those berries you were so interested in by now." 

"Cover you?" Blair asked in a distant, breathy voice. He gave Jim a beatific smile. "Seems more like you covering me, big guy." 

Jim frowned down at the man lying so still beneath him. For just a moment, he stared into those wide blue eyes, listening to the soft, gasping breathes and rapid heart beat of his guide.....Hell! What was he thinking? He was suffocating the kid. 

Scooting painstakingly across the still body, Jim finally managed to maneuver himself to the side. "Sorry. Can you breath better now?" 

"Huh?" Blair shivered a moment then seemed to gather himself together as he yawned hugely. "Oh, yeah, sure, man." He snickered a bit. "What are we doing out here in the boonies, Jim? Let's go home." Blair tried to sit up but was stopped short by the big hand of Jim Ellison pressing him back. 

"Jim?" 

"Sandburg. Chief. Look, I'm sorry, but we're right in the middle of something here. I need just a few more minutes, okay?" 

"Well..." 

"You just stay right here and relax, got it? I'll be back along to get you in a couple of minutes." 

Yawning again, Blair frowned foggily. "But, but we're outside...right? It's cold out here." 

Shaking his head guiltily, Jim carefully worked out of his coat and tucked it around his young partner. The man was really out of it. "Here, Chief. This will just take a minute. I promise." Stroking absently down the side of his guide's cheek, Jim was again struck by the expression on Blair's face. 

With a look of blissful contentment, Blair snuggled down into Jim's coat and leaned his face into the other man's caress and closed his eyes. "Cover me, Jim. Cover me." 

Giving the planed jawline one last pat, Jim murmured, "Sure thing, Chief. Sure thing." 

~^~^~^~^~ 

Almost eighteen hours later, Blair Sandburg woke with a start. Disoriented, at first he couldn't remember where he was, much less figure out what had awakened him. Rolling his head sideways to look at the clock, he heard it again. A crackling, crunching sound that brought back memories from long ago. Heart racing, the pulse in his neck pounding, Blair tried to consider his next move. There was no doubt in his slightly unfocused mind that the same thing which had happened all those years ago was happening again. There was a mouse in the bed with him, and it was eating his hair! 

Twenty years ago, when he roused to the soft cracklings near his ear, he hadn't known what was going on. He'd eased up, almost in slow motion, and turned. Nose to nose with the mouse on his pillow, he'd screamed out loud, scaring both himself and the mouse half to death. Naomi had come rushing in, and he'd fumbled around trying to explain for long moments, more than long enough for the tiny creature to make its escape. His mom had never come right out and said so, but he'd always known she hadn't believed him. Even though it had only been his mother, it had been humiliating. 

This time, things were going to be different. Tensing his muscles, Blair leapt from the bed in one smooth motion, yelling like a banshee. Unfortunately, the graceful arch he made through the air was aborted when his foot snagged on the loose covers. Crashing to the floor, hopelessly tangled up in the comforter, Blair continued to yell ferociously, just in case. He was dimly aware of Jim sprinting down the stairs and throwing open the door to his room, but he had no time to spare to answer his partner's loud questions. He had to catch that damn mouse. 

Struggling to pull his leg from its snare and stand up, he dove back onto the bed and began to tear the remaining covers away. "Where is it?" he yelled. "Where is it?" Shaking the covers violently, he flung them into a corner and proceeded to do the same thing to all of his pillows. 

By this time, realizing that the only threat in the room was to Blair's bed, Jim had crossed his arms and was leaning against the door, watching the proceedings with eyebrows climbing on top of his head. As Blair tossed the last pillow onto the floor, Jim cleared his throat loudly. "Ah, Sandburg?" 

Distracted, breathing hard, Blair shook his head then settled back in the middle of his bed on his knees. "Yeah?" He seemed to see Jim for the first time. "Oh, hi, Jim. I, uh, don't suppose you saw it, did you?" 

"Saw what, Chief?" 

"The mouse." 

"Mouse? We don't have any mice, Sandburg. You know that." 

Blair was already shaking his head. "No. That's not true, man, there was one in the bed with me, eating my..." 

"Eating your...?" 

"Yeah, eating my hair," Blair spat, almost defiantly. "It was sitting beside my ear, eating my hair, okay?" 

Jim's lips began to twitch as he tried desperately not to laugh. "And you saw this mouse, did you? Did it, ah, eat very much of it?" 

"Go ahead and laugh at the little guy. I know what I heard." Blair leaned forward, preparing to get off the bed. A tiny crackling sound filled the room, and he froze. "See?" he hissed. "There it is again! I'm telling you, man, there's a mouse in here." 

Jim frowned and stepped forward. "Chief, I don't think that's a mouse...." Reaching out, he drew Blair up and off the bed. Pulling his guide snug against him, Jim looked down at the bed. There were tiny bits of brown scattered across the sheet. Releasing Blair, Jim leaned over and picked up some of them in his fingers. Rubbing the particles back and forth, Jim held them up for Blair's inspection. 

Hearing the familiar crackling, Blair forgot about being mad at Jim for not believing him. He peered at the Sentinel's hand. "What is it?" 

Jim looked puzzled for a long moment, then he looked at Blair more closely. Reaching up, he stroked his hand through his guide's tangled curls. Blair's eyes widened slightly as he felt long fingers caress his scalp, then Jim was holding something in front of his face. A leaf. A tiny, brown, dry, crunchy leaf. 

Blair colored as Jim crumbled the leaf for effect. 

"Sandburg, I know you're always telling me about being one with nature, but this is a bit overboard, don't you think?" 

"Very funny. How in the hell did I get a leaf in my hair?" Blair shook his head again as a look of confusion crossed his face. "For that matter, how in the hell did I even get in my bed in the first place?" 

Jim suddenly seemed very intent on picking up the scattered bedding. "Well, what do you remember?" 

"I was sitting in your truck waiting on you." Blair made a sound of disgust. "Fifteen minutes, you said, thirty tops. Hell, I know it was at least an hour..." his voice trailed off as the confusion deepened. "I must have dozed off, because I remember walking through the woods, and seeing you..." Blair stopped abruptly as he thought about what else he'd been dreaming about. The feel of Jim's body lying on his, that hot, hard flesh pressing him down.... oh god. 

Jim's eyes narrowed as he watched a myriad of emotions flitting across his younger partner's face. Feeling more than a little guilty, he spoke gruffly. "Sorry about that, Chief. It did take too long, a lot longer than it should have. You came looking for me. Do you remember that?" 

Struggling to bring his mind back to the matter at hand, Blair shook his head slowly. "Nooo....I don't think so, man. I don't remember anything else until I woke up here just now... well, except for a couple of wild dreams." He chuckled weakly, then frowned as another thought occurred to him. "But then, if they were just dreams, how did I get that leaf in my hair?" 

"You got out of the truck and came to find me. I, uh, guess maybe you got the leaf in your hair then." Jim avoided thinking about why he didn't want to tell Blair about their little roll in the woods. He felt relieved that it could be avoided. "Tell you what, Chief. Why don't you go grab a shower, while I fix breakfast?" 

"Yeah, thanks, man," Blair agreed, wondering what else he'd brought back with him from the woods. "A shower'd probably be really good." 

Blair turned to head for the bathroom but was stopped short by his Sentinel's voice, "Oh, and Sandburg?" 

"Yeah, Jim?" 

"Don't worry about any Blair-eating mice. I've got you covered." 

Far from the grumble Jim was expecting, Blair gulped loudly, nodded once, and beat a hasty retreat. 

~^~^~^~^~^~ 

Blair spent the next several hours at the university, desperately trying to clamp down on his wayward imagination. He was still struggling as he pulled his car into the garage at the precinct. _Cover me...Cover me_ The words kept echoing through his head, bringing with them a wealth of images and a wild yearning that threatened to engulf him. 

Suddenly, Blair couldn't stop thinking about Jim. Jim smiling. Jim frowning. Jim stepping out of the shower wrapped in that tiny little towel last week when Blair had forgotten to do the laundry. Jim lying on top of him on the cold, hard ground, eyes on fire...hell, his entire body on fire...so hot...so... _No!_ 

He had to stop this. He was an anthropologist, a scientist for god's sake. Objectivity was the key to getting hold of himself. Blair giggled sickly as he thought about what he'd like to get hold of. Groaning aloud, his hands gripped the steering wheel tightly as he slowly began to bang his head on it. 

The dissertation. He'd think about the dissertation. Hmmm....right. Okay. How about...Jim's senses. There was always more to be learned about Jim's senses. Even though each of them was well documented by now, there was no such thing as too much data. From a spiritual standpoint, he doubted if anyone could ever point to a specific something and say 'that's the reason Jim Ellison is a Sentinel', but still, a genetic study, for instance, would be intriguing. The very real possibility that some sort of genetic Sentinel signpost existed in each and every cell of Jim's big, buff body...._aarrgghh!_ 

Grabbing his keys, Blair raked a distracted hand through his unruly hair and headed for the elevator. His heart began to beat faster as he realized Jim would immediately know something was wrong with him. But, it was like thinking about pink elephants, the more he told himself not to think about Jim, the more he did. 

As the elevator rose smoothly, Blair thought of one last thing to try. If Mr. Spock could distract a computer by asking it to calculate pi to the last significant digit, surely Blair Sandburg could distract his frenzied libido with a similar ploy. Ethnology. He forced himself to begin outlining an imaginary paper on the basic ethnology of the Hopi Indians. Okay, first of all he'd need to address their matriarchal structure and clans. Oh, and the kachinas, mustn't forget the kachinas. The basic Hopi religion included dozens of deities; spirits of ancestors, animals, plants and forces of nature among them. 

It was working. Slowly, but surely, Blair was beginning to concentrate on the fascinating structure of Hopi tradition. Relieved, Blair hopped out of the elevator, smiling and bopping his way over to Jim's desk. Hmmm...maybe he could find a correlation between the Hopi animal spirits and the spirit guides of Incacha's people. Playing with a bizarre scenario where he introduced Jim's panther to various Hopi kachinas at a big tea party, Blair was surprised when he bumped into the desk. 

Jim was standing beside it, talking to Brown. Without actually turning, he reached behind him and drew Blair forward saying, "You'll cover me, won't you, Chief?" 

_Whomp!_ Hopi totemic beliefs crumbled to dust in the anthropologist's mind as an equally majestic image of Jim Ellison rose to replace them. Blair's heart lurched painfully in his chest as he trembled under the force of his emotional response. He jumped like he'd been goosed and managed to squeak out, "What?" 

Jim Ellison turned full around to look closely at his guide. "I want to get into the pool on MacGruder's baby, and I don't have any cash on me right now. Can you cover me?" 

Jim's eyes narrowed as Blair's heart beat even faster. Something was definitely wrong here. He'd been monitoring the younger man ever since he'd pulled into the garage, and he'd listened with growing puzzlement and concern as his guide struggled to control his racing heart, all the while mumbling to himself about Indians. 

Now, looking at Blair's sweat covered brow and dilated eyes, Jim felt all his instincts go into play. He had to grab the corner of his desk to keep from grabbing Blair and thrusting him behind him out of harm's way. Or, barring that, he wanted to pull Sandburg to him and... _Whoa, Nellie!_ Where did that errant little thought come from? 

Clearing his throat, Blair spoke. "Oh, sure, Jim. Sure, I'll c-cover you. No problem. How much, Henri?" 

Leaving Blair to attend to the finer details of the betting pool, Jim pushed his way past the other two men and into Simon's empty office, asking Blair to join him there when he'd finished. A private talk was definitely in order. 

Staring impatiently at his partner, Jim noticed that he seemed to be having a really hard time extracting his wallet from his back pocket. No wonder. If Sandburg didn't insist on wearing his jeans so tight that they literally molded to his skin.... Surprised at himself and the totally off the wall direction of his own thoughts, Jim applied himself to cataloging his guide's current condition. 

Blair's heartbeat wasn't quite as staccato as it had been earlier, but it was still a far cry from his usual restful rhythm. His breathing was too fast, and a bit shallow, and he was still covered in a fine sheen of perspiration. And there was something else. Jim's nose twitched as he finally identified the ephemeral scent that had been teasing his senses for the last couple of days. Pheromones. His guide was leaking pheromones like the reactor at Three Mile Island. What the hell was going on? 

Before he had time to do anymore, Blair stuck his head cautiously into Simon's office. "Jim? You wanted to tell me something?" 

"Get in here, Sandburg. No, I didn't want to tell you something. I want you to tell me something." 

Looking everywhere but at his partner, Blair said, "Oh, well, okay, sure. What did you need to know, Jim? Something about your senses?" 

"No. Well, yeah, kind of, I guess. I mean...Stop that!" 

"Stop what?" 

"Stop trying to throw me off track. You do that all the time." 

"I do it all the time! Man, that's rich! Coming from Mr. 'Ask and Ye Shall Receive' Ellison, that's a real hoot." 

"Sandburg!" Jim growled then stopped. Blair was playing him like he played a salmon on the hook. Taking a deep breath, Jim tried being direct. "Chief. What's wrong?" 

Flinging himself into a chair, Blair shrugged. "I don't know what you mean." Then he grimaced and reached around to rub at his back. 

Sitting down next to him, Jim ticked off the points on his fingers. "One, you're nervous as a cat. You're bouncing around too much, even for you. Two, you're talking to yourself." Holding up his hand to forestall the words he could see trying to boil forth from his guide, Jim continued, "I know, I know. You talk to yourself all the time. But not about Indians and tea parties." 

This time Blair had to interrupt. Leaping to his feet, still rubbing unconsciously at his back, the younger man began to pace. "Man, I cannot believe this. You've been eavesdropping again. Thanks a lot, Jim!" 

"Chief. I was not eavesdropping. At least not on purpose. I heard you come in downstairs, and when you didn't move, I just kind of zeroed in to check on you. You are acting weird, Sandburg, totally unlike yourself. And that's a statement I never thought I'd make." Watching his guide who was now standing staring through the darkened windows, Jim frowned as he realized Blair was still rubbing his back. Standing up, he moved up behind the smaller man. "Chief...Blair. What's wrong with your back?" 

Moving quickly to put some much needed distance between them, Blair latched onto the change of topic like a lifeline. "I don't know, man. It's killing me. Been getting worse all day. I can't figure out what I did to it." 

Coloring guiltily, Jim thought he probably knew. Being tackled on the cold, hard ground could have something to do with it. Sighing, he realized that getting to the bottom of whatever was wrong with his guide would have to wait. "Tell you what, Chief. Let's get out of here. Simon has already gone for the weekend, and there's not really anything on my desk that can't wait till Monday. Let's go home, and we'll see about making your back feel better. Okay?" 

Wary, but wanting nothing more than to be at home with Jim, Blair smiled. "Okay, Jim. Let's go home." 

~^~^~^~^~^~ 

When the two partners got back to the loft, Jim was all business. "Okay, Sandburg. You go on upstairs and get ready. I'm just going to grab one of those big bath sheets and some oil." 

There it went again. Blair's heart took off at a gallop. Jim took a step towards him, then stopped. The best thing to do right now was to calm the younger man down as quickly as possible, and a massage should be just the thing. "Go on." Jim growled as he disappeared into the bathroom, shedding some of his own clothes as he went. 

Closing his eyes as if in prayer, Blair unbuttoned his first shirt with shaky fingers as he dragged himself slowly up the stairs. Into Jim's room. Up to Jim's bed... just where he'd finally decided he really wanted to be....but now what? 

Jim found him like that a few minutes later. Laying aside the oil he'd so carefully warmed along with a small towel, Jim briskly spread the big fluffy bath sheet on the bed then turned to his guide. Brushing aside the usually dexterous fingers that seemed to have frozen in place about three buttons from the bottom, Jim quickly finished unbuttoning Blair's shirt. He snorted in amusement as he saw the first of two tee-shirts under it. 

Stripping his guide down to bare chest, his hands moved to the snap of Blair's jeans. The younger man jumped back, his eyes widening. "Whoa there, man! What are you doing?" 

"I'm supposed to be giving you a massage, remember? Now, I'm the first to admit those jeans stretch so tight across your ass, they're like a second skin, but somehow I don't think it's quite the same. Now quit stalling, Sandburg, and drop 'em." 

Eyeing his partner uncertainly, Blair began to peel off his jeans. That was the second time today Jim had mentioned his ass. Interesting...was Jim feeling these crazy feelings, thinking these crazy thoughts too? A flash of pain brought Blair out of his reverie. "_Ow!_" 

"Blair, what's wrong?" Jim was crowding him back and down. Blair fell onto the bed as Jim tugged and pulled on the constricting jeans. 

As they slid the rest of the way over his rump, Blair couldn't suppress another hiss, "Ow! Watch it, man! That hurts." 

"Turn over, and let me see." 

"No." 

"Sandburg, either you turn over or I'll turn you over. Let me see!" As the young man continued to glare defiantly up from the bed, Jim added impatiently, "Besides, just what exactly is it that you think I'm going to be massaging, anyway?" 

Fascinated, Jim watched a deep red flush rippling up Blair's neck. As the Sentinel continued to gaze, entranced, he found himself wanting to lean closer, to press his mouth against the verge of that crimson tide, tasting the heat, trying to outpace it. 

Like a tape played in slow motion, Jim began to sway closer to his guide. Blair's eyes widened in clear panic, and he flopped over onto his stomach so fast that his hair swung out and hit Jim in the nose. 

Twitching and sneezing, Jim pulled back and collected his outrageous thoughts. Clearing his throat, he struggled to put the entire encounter back on a more or less casual basis. "Hmmm... let me see." One long finger began to carefully trace along Blair's lower spine. When it reached the waistband of Blair's boxers, the finger took an abrupt detour to the right. "Damn. Pull your boxers down, Chief." 

A strangled sound brought Jim's head up to study his guide. Blair had his face buried in Jim's pillows, his hands flung out to the sides, fists clenched. Not exactly the picture of relaxation. And...Jim's nostrils flared....there it was again. Pheromones. 

Pheromones... 

Running a big palm up and down the firm bare back of his guide in what he hoped was a comforting gesture, Jim tried to explain, "Look, Blair. There's a big bruise here that disappears under the edge of your boxers. No doubt that's a lot of the pain. I can't do anything about it if you don't let me work on it." 

"No, that's okay, Jim." Blair mumbled into the pillow. "You don't have to..." 

"I know I don't have to, Sandburg." Jim was beginning to get extremely exasperated with Blair's sudden shrinking-violet tactics. "I want to. I'm going to. Now take off those boxers!" 

Knowing from the tone of voice that Jim was not about to take 'no' for an answer, Blair proceeded to wiggle and writhe until he'd worked his boxers down and off. Jim watched the whole performance avidly, a part of him wondering why Blair didn't just stand up and chuck them off like he always had in the past. But then, it became a moot question as Jim saw the extent of the bruise marring the supple flesh exposed to him. 

It was big, and it was ugly. And, it was all Jim's fault. 

Obviously, when he'd tackled Blair in the woods, he'd crushed him right into a rock. A fairly big rock. The only reason Blair could've failed to feel it at the time was because he'd been so out of it from lack of sleep. A wave of remorse coursed through Jim as he ran gentle fingers over the angry, abused flesh. 

"Portugal." 

"Huh?" Blair tried to twist around to look back over his shoulder, but a strong hand held him firmly in place. 

"Your bruise," Jim traced the angry black outline gently, "it looks like Portugal." 

Blair snorted, "Yeah, sure, that's me, a walking atlas." 

Suddenly, Blair felt something press softly against his inflamed flesh, not a finger or a hand, something else. Something soft and moist, accompanied by the merest ghost of warmth.... 

"Jim!" Blair's hips twitched spasmodically. "What are you doing, man?" He sounded desperate. Desperate enough to drag Jim's attention away from the beautiful form beneath his hands--did he just think that?--and back to his guide's overall condition. 

This had to stop. No one could function on a continuous adrenaline high, not even Blair 'Energizer Bunny' Sandburg. Reaching for the oil, Jim popped the top and began to drizzle it down his guide's spine. "Relax, Blair. I'm just going to rub you down. Trust me, just let me cover you here...." 

Jim's eyes narrowed and his hands slowed as Blair began to moan beneath him. Jim thought back in detail over the past day, thinking over their itinerary, remembering their conversations, and Blair's reactions during each exchange. 

_Cover you..._ 

That was it. Everytime Blair heard those words, his reaction was positively seismic. But why? Pushing the question to the back of his mind, Jim set his jaw and determined to ignore the pheromones that were threatening his ability to perform higher math and proceeded to give his partner the massage of a lifetime. 

In spite of the tension that had seized his muscles into huge knots, Blair began to relax under Jim's careful ministrations. Keeping up a steady spate of soothing words, Jim rubbed and squeezed, stroked and manipulated, until Blair Sandburg, epitome of stubbornness, poster boy for energy junkies everywhere, was a calm, happy, incoherent puddle. 

With one last sweeping stroke that started at the base of Blair's neck and ended on the bruise that had started the whole thing, Jim stepped back in satisfaction. Blair wasn't asleep, but unless Jim missed his guess, he would be soon. Now, when Blair's guard was down, was the time for Jim to act. 

Picking up an old quilt, he covered Blair with it, tugging it up around his shoulders. Gently sweeping the long curls out of his guide's face, Jim leaned down to whisper in Blair's ear. "Chief? You still with me?" 

An easy smile creasing his face, Blair opened unfocused eyes and mumbled, "Ummm....yeah, Jim, I'm here. Wow. That feels...fantastic. Thanks, man." 

Still stroking the dark hair under his hand, Jim smiled in return. "You're welcome. Listen, why don't you just stay up here and relax for a few minutes. I have to run down to the store and grab some beer, but I'll be right back. Okay?" 

"Sure, Jim. Okay." 

Patting the younger man on the back, Jim stepped away, then seemed to remember something and turned back. "Oh, and Blair?" 

"Yeah?" 

"If the phone rings, if Simon calls or anything, well, you just cover for me, all right?" 

"Right. If the phone rings, I'll cov--" The big, blue eyes that had been peering so sleepily from under the dark mass of hair popped open. On cue, Blair's breathing began to strain as his heartbeat picked back up. "Yeah, no problem, Jim. Go. I'll...cover you." 

A small smile of triumph flashed out briefly on Jim Ellison's face, then was gone, replaced by a genial mask of imperturbability. "Right, Chief. You do that." He turned, and was gone. 

~^~^~^~^~^~ 

Twenty minutes later, Jim returned from his errand with a twelve pack of beer in his hand and a smile on his face. As he waited for the elevator to take him back upstairs to his apartment, he wondered again what he should say to Blair. 

Blair. Just thinking about the younger man made Jim's own heartbeat start to speed up. 

At first, when Jim had realized that he was responding to his guide in a decidedly unplatonic manner, he hadn't known what to make of it. Him and Blair? Sure, the kid, the man, was extremely good looking, but so was Brad Pitt, hell, so was Brian Rafe, and he wasn't lusting after him. But there had always been something between the two of them, Sandburg and himself. Some spark, some...connection. Something that enhanced the Sentinel/Guide thing they had going, making it richer. 

Smiling again as the elevator finally rumbled to a halt on his floor, Jim couldn't wait to see his guide's face when he told him he knew all about Blair's recent reactions to 'cover me', and he was all for it. 

Reaching out to open the door, he leaped back in surprise as a very agitated Blair Sandburg barreled into him. Juggling the beer, he grabbed Blair's shoulder with his other hand and squeezed, "Hey, Chief. You're not leaving are you?" 

"Jim! Glad you're back, man. Come on, we've got to go!" Blair slammed the door shut behind him and began tugging Jim back to the elevator he'd just vacated. 

"Chief. Chief!" Jim could feel his own stubborn heels digging in, wanting an explanation before he went any further. "Wait a minute. What's going on? Go where?" 

Punching the button for the ground floor, Blair rocked back on the balls of his feet. "Wow, Jim. You must have latent E.S.P. or something. No sooner had you left than the phone rang. Simon needs us to take over that stake-out down by the water front. MacGruder's wife has gone into labor." The elevator doors slid open. Blair dashed out into the lobby, still towing his bemused partner with him. "C'mon, man! I was just about to come find you. Let's go!" 

Pushing the idea of jumping his guide into the 'things to definitely think about doing later' department, Jim Ellison tossed the bag of beer into the back of his truck, made sure his partner was safely belted in, and took off. 

~^~^~^~^~^~ 

Two hours later, Blair Sandburg had more knots in his back than he'd had before his massage. And every one of them was attributable to Jim Ellison. The man was obviously trying to drive him insane. 

Sitting in the cab of Jim's truck, the two of them had long since given up any pretense of small talk. No matter what topic Blair broached, Jim seemed to find a way to twist it back to something personal. Something intimate. And no matter how innocuously Blair might try to then address whatever it was, Jim seemed to take everything he said as some sort of double entendre. He had to be doing it on purpose. And yet, every time Blair looked toward the Sentinel, he seemed to be completely focused on the out of the way door of the warehouse they were helping to stake out. 

As conversation dwindled then died completely, Blair heaved a huge sigh. The only explanation was that Jim knew how Blair felt. How could he not? He was a Sentinel after all, and he was attuned to his guide. So...where did that put things? Apparently, Jim wasn't going to kill him. That was no small blessing as far as Blair was concerned. Apparently, Jim wasn't even going to gripe at him. Which left what? 

Much as he'd like to, Blair couldn't quite wrap his thoughts around Jim returning his feelings. No. Never happen. Not in this lifetime. So...it was up to him, Blair Sandburg, to cease and desist. That was it. He'd stop thinking these thoughts and feeling these feelings, and he'd do it right now. Now. Okay, now! 

Just then, Jim leaned over in the seat until he was against Blair. Blair shivered as warm, moist air caressed his neck. "Sandburg," Jim whispered. 

"Y-yeah?" Blair breathed back. 

"I'm gonna get out and stretch my legs for a minute. I want you to keep watching that door." The warm breath continued to tickle along Blair's nerve endings. 

"Jimmm...." Blair moaned softly. 

"You'll cover me, won't you, Blair?" Jim grinned ferally as Blair leaned without volition towards him. 

"Yeah, Jim. Always, you know that." The younger man whispered softly. 

"Good. I'll be right back. Cover me." A damp, rough tongue darted out and licked a quick line up the pulsing vein in Blair's neck to his ear. 

Blair gasped, but before he could even turn his head, Jim was out of the truck and jogging up the alley. Blair's thoughts became complete chaos until he pulled himself together into some coherence. <_Oh my god! What the hell was that_?> Jim Ellison had just licked him. He licked him! Hadn't he? 

Suddenly, Blair was terrified. He'd been so totally wrapped up in his fantasies, what if he'd gotten them confused with reality? What if Jim hadn't really licked him at all, but Blair had just fantasized that he did? Trying to calm his panicked thoughts, Blair grimly watched the doorway of the old warehouse, all the while trying desperately to decide what he should do now. 

Just a couple of minutes later, the driver's door snapped open and Jim slid back inside. Starting the engine, he turned to Blair and wiggled his eyebrows, "Ready to go home, Junior G-man?" 

Feeling a little more normal with Jim's sarcasm back in place, Blair smirked, "Cute. Yeah, I'm ready. But what about the stake-out?" 

"No problem. I told 'em you were in labor too." 

" What?" 

Jim convulsed with laughter. "The expression on your face. Chief, sometimes, you are just too easy." Still laughing, he continued, "Stake-out's over, Blair. The warehouse is clean. I checked it out." 

"Oh." Blair was silent a few moments, digesting the information. "Wait a minute. You mean you went into that warehouse without me? Without even telling me?" Blair's voice was getting louder as he considered the risk his partner had taken. 

"Sandburg! Relax. I'm a big boy." As Blair continued to glower at him, Jim relented, "Okay. I knew it was empty before I went in. That's why I got out to walk around the building. To make sure. That better?" 

Mollified, Blair grinned grudgingly. "Yeah. That's better." 

"Good. I didn't mean to scare you, Chief. I may want to make you feel a lot of things, but fear isn't one of them." 

Blair looked at his Sentinel in disbelief, unable to convince himself Jim was saying what he seemed to be. Before he could frame a coherent reply, Jim had pulled back up at the loft. Scrambling to keep up, Blair hopped out of the truck and followed Jim inside. 

Back in the apartment, Jim tossed his coat on the hook and the keys in the basket, and flung himself on the couch. Yawning hugely, he stretched, one of those all-out body stretches that had Blair visually tracing the long lines of his limbs as they alternately flexed and relaxed. 

Turning to hang his coat on the hook as well, Blair thought to quietly enter his room, eager for a little breathing space to try and make some sense of the night's events. Just as his hand touched the door, however, Jim called out softly. "Blair?" 

"Yeah, Jim?" 

"Come here a minute, will you?" 

Shuffling reluctantly over to the couch, Blair asked again, "Yeah?" 

Tilting his head back just a bit, Jim looked directly into his guide's wide blue eyes and said, "Cover me, Blair." 

"Wh-what?" 

Jim smiled a slow, sensual smile and rolled his head back against the armrest. "You heard me, Blair. Cover me." 

Stepping forward, Blair hesitated then picked up the throw from the back of the couch and started to spread it over his partner. As he leaned over, Jim reached up and grabbed the younger man by the forearm. With a solid tug, he pulled his guide flush down against his chest. "That's not what I meant, and you know it. Cover me." 

"Jim, I-I..." 

A smile quirked Jim's lips, suddenly millimeters away. "Yeah, you-you. Surprise." Leaning forward, Jim closed the gap between them and pressed his lips softly to Blair's. 

Blair lay frozen as the Sentinel pulled him close in an embrace neither had ever thought would happen. Soft mouth, softer kiss, leaving Blair staring deeply into Jim's eyes, the blue nearly swallowed whole by dark irises. "Jim? This is... when...how...?" His voice squeaked slightly, and Jim smiled again. 

At the second touch of Jim's mouth, all resistance left Blair's body in a rush as he collapsed bonelessly into the Sentinel's embrace and began to return the kiss frantically. One kiss, then another passed between them, long and deep and impossibly intimate. Incandescent heat nearly melted him into a heap, but using the few unaffected brain cells he had left, Blair pulled back abruptly. 

"Blair?" Jim gasp, trying to pull him back down. 

Without a word, Blair wrapped his arms tightly around Jim's shoulders and pushed himself sideways off the couch, pulling Jim with him. They ended up on the floor, Blair on the bottom and Jim on top. The same position that had started the whole thing two days ago. 

Twining his hands in the short, soft hair on the back of Jim's neck, Blair smiled up into the eyes of the man who meant more to him than he'd ever imagined anyone could. "No, Jim. You cover me." Tugging gently, Blair coaxed the other man's lips back to his own, still murmuring, "Yeah, want you to cover me, Jim. Cover me." 

After the past day of heightened awareness and senses, all centering around his guide, James Ellison didn't need a second invitation. Blair's words acted like any other suggestion the guide would give his Sentinel. The words by-passed Jim's brain and sank deep into his subconscious. His body automatically strove to follow his guide's order, and he sealed himself onto the body beneath him. 

Senses went off the scale as Jim overdosed on his guide. Blair's thundering heartbeat pounded the air, his own heart speeding in tandem. Smell, the most potent input of all, had him shaking as he drew in a deep breath filled with Blair's scent. Strong pheromones mixed with Blair's normally musky fragrance, creating a unique essence designed to induce instant euphoria in the sensitive Sentinel. He pulled himself back from zoning out at the last moment only because other desirable sensations clamored for his attention. 

There was heat where he lay, and firmness. Jim knew that Blair might appear slight next to him or their other co-workers, but he was not at all insubstantial. Jim had felt the solidness of his guide before when he'd carried him while injured. Now he was experiencing Blair from a new perspective, and he liked it. A lot. More than a lot, it made him want to cement himself so tightly to his guide that Jim could feel himself merge with Blair, and know every nuance of his guide. 

Jim focused on the feeling of firm musculature as he ran light fingertips up Blair's arms, and down Blair's neck, tracing down his side and curling around taut, jeans-clad hips and thighs. As his fingers grasped more firmly, sound penetrated his haze as Blair groaned deeply, giving Jim yet more sensations to absorb. Instinctively, he curved his fingers into the hard thigh once more, relishing the feel of Blair's quivering body accompanying his second gasp and moan. 

"Oh yeah, man, that's...oh, god, Jim..." Blair was nearly incoherent. 

<He's like that because of this. Us>, Jim thought as he breathed deeply again, his nose buried now in the fragrant heat of his guide's neck, soft curls teasing his skin like a thousand fingers. <Damn, this...us>, Jim thought in surprise, then lost the train of his thoughts as Blair's knees came up and latched onto his hips, holding tight as he began a determined motion. 

Jim's own comfortably loose jeans were torture as they slid and rubbed over him, stirred by the hardness pressing into his groin. In simple seconds, he was gasping air frantically and teetering on the edge of losing all control, something he hadn't done since adolescence. 

The need to have Blair as close as possible still pounded a primitive rhythm in his blood as Jim rolled to the side. Blair made frantic attempts to pull him back, and Jim felt his fear. "Blair, hold on, wait." When he'd gotten the attention of his partner, he took a deep breath. "The cold, hard floor, buddy. Not my idea of where I want to be curled up with you by tomorrow morning." He watched swift understanding and relief come into Blair's eyes, his face transforming with a kind of joy that rocked him to the core. 

"You really want this? Me? Ah, jeez, Jim-" Blair broke off, speechless. 

Jim couldn't help laughing, even with the desire pulsing through him. "Yeah, if you want this balding, aging cop, you've got him." 

"Want you?" Blair swallowed hard, then pushed back and gained his feet quickly, reaching down a hand toward Jim. "Come on, big guy, we'll go find you something softer." 

Jim followed willingly, still full of desire and happier than he could remember being in a long time. "I hope you're only talking about the bed, Chief." 

Blair choked, then saw the twinkle in Jim's eye. "Yeah, the bed, big guy, for those old bones of yours." Blair flashed a blinding white smile at Jim and dashed up the loft stairs before Jim could grab him. 

When Jim reached the top, all he saw was clothing flying in every direction. A flung tee-shirt whipped out and wrapped itself around Jim's neck, settling down as Blair jumped on the bed and grinned up at the bemused Sentinel. 

"You gonna stand there all night, Jim?" Trying for light-hearted, Blair's words rang with wistfulness and uncertainty. 

The sound of Blair's nervousness broke Jim's spellbound gaze at the heart-stopping vision spread out on his bed. "I could," he said huskily. "The view's beautiful. But I bet it's even better from closer up." He began peeling out of his clothes systematically, skipping his normal routine in favor of throwing them in the direction of the chair. A smart man knew when some things just weren't important. 

As he crawled onto the bed next to his guide, he felt the heat from the deep blush that covered Blair's face and neck, creeping down onto his chest, matching the suddenly shy look in Blair's eyes. "Don't tell me you're embarrassed by a compliment, Chief." 

Blair reached out and pulled Jim to him, suckling on the hard curve of neck to hide his face. "Aw, Jim, please, geeky anthropologist nerds aren't beautiful." He ran firm hands around and over Jim's shoulders, down the curve of his back to splay over the most gorgeous, rock-hard ass he'd ever seen. "That's reserved for hard-bodied ex-military cops who could probably crush small, geeky academics like me. Ah, Jim... you have no idea, you look like a god." Blair nipped a few bites on Jim's chest while pushing the Sentinel onto his back and crawling on top of him. 

Hair was trailing over Jim's skin as Blair traced a path over his chest. He heard the reference to a god, but it didn't really register. It was all the Sentinel could do to stay focused without zoning. How often had his fingers itched to dive into that wild, curly mass, wanting to feel it brushing over every inch of skin on his body? And when the trail of that hair moved lower, incredible sensations coalesced in the wet heat suddenly surrounding him. //Hot, hot wetness, thundering heart, blood rushing through veins in a frenzy of excitement//... 

"Jim, come on, Jim, gotta stay with me here, or it's no fun for me," the sound of his guide's voice called him back from the place he'd been. Blair lay atop him, hands framing either side of his face as a worried frown creased his forehead. Blair's concern had him nearly nose to nose with the Sentinel. 

"Here, Blair. I'm here," he ground out, still dazed by the pleasure coursing through his body, the very smell of their scents mingling in the air. "Let's do it my way, to avoid that little problem." 

Before Blair could even form a question, Jim had changed their positions until he was back on top, knees on either side of Blair's wiry body. "Let me do the exploring, it'll help keep me focused." Jim brought all his attention to bear upon his helpless guide. 

It was a highly effective way to short out Blair's perpetual chattering, Jim noted. The only thing emerging from his guide's mouth were choked, mewling sounds, making Jim smile as he breathed deeply of his guide's personal scent from every portion of his skin. He could sense the subtle responses of fluttering muscles and dilating blood vessels as he nuzzled spots which had Blair's heart thundering out of control once again. 

It was only Blair's pleading which brought Jim back up, retracing his steps until he lay snug against his guide, their cocks wet and sliding next to one another as Jim began to rock his hips. This was where he wanted to be, what had his blood singing in his veins; a mindless, joyous sense of rightness. It didn't matter that it was unexpected, that it created a heap of problems in other areas of his life. All Jim knew was somehow, this was right, that Blair was his now. 

When Blair finally rasped out Jim's name, clutching him with fingers strong enough to bruise as hot semen flooded out between them, Jim's satisfaction and pleasure surged even deeper. He slipped ecstatically through the evidence of Blair's satisfaction, letting it take him over the brink easily as he poured out his own climax in breathless gasps. Wrapping himself like a ribbon around his partner endless moments later, both men lay limp and replete in a semi-stupor. A sense of irreversible union bound them up, tying them together, cocooning them from the thought of tomorrow. Jim had the faint, fleeting thought of <sticky...water>, but the insistent drumbeat of their hearts pounding in unity lured him away. 

//Away into a cool green jungle, sounds of wildlife alive around them in the dark, his guide by his side as firelight flared, the tribe dancing to the earth rhythm of the drums, beating in celebration for them, beating, beating...// 

~^~^~^~^~^~ 

It was one of those lovely Indian summer days, nature's last fling with abundance before succumbing to the long sleep of winter. Blair felt fine. He felt better than fine, he felt like crowing his happiness to the skies, so he did, completely oblivious to the looks askance he received as the sounds rolled out the car windows. They were down while Blair drove to the station so he could enjoy the unseasonal warmth of the sun. He smiled to himself, admitting cheerfully that today he wouldn't have cared if it had snowed two feet and the temperature had dipped down into the single digits. Nothing could shake him from the complete sense of rightness he felt today. 

Nothing, that is, but total disaster and something happening to his partner, Blair amended superstitiously. It had been known to happen to them. Wasn't it traditional in many stories for the wrath of the gods to descend upon those who aspired to achieve the bliss reserved for them alone? Maybe he should burn incense, offer up some kind of thanks or plea for protection to the innumerable gods and goddesses he knew. Abruptly, Blair thought of the artifact he'd brought home from the university sitting untouched in his bedroom. A statue not in the best of shape, it was a likeness of Ashtoreth, goddess of love, fertility and war, recovered from an ancient middle-eastern site. He'd brought it home a few days ago for study. 

Now that he thought about it, the timing was really...interesting. Maybe he should just give offerings to her, Blair mused, tapping fingers all over the steering wheel in an intricate rhythm. After all these years, something had contrived to bring them together, why not the influence of an ancient face of love and war? Even if the fertile part didn't quite fit, he chuckled out loud, the rest certainly did. 

Fit. Oh yeah, man, they fit and like a glove. Together, the two of them, so close he'd had a hard time figuring out where he'd stopped and Jim had started. It had been something right out of his heated fantasies, a thousand times better than his late night solo torture sessions. He'd felt the earth move, saw the moon and the stars stop in their tracks. It seemed like he'd shot right smack dab into the middle of the sun, he'd felt so bright and hot and alive. 

Oh, yeah, it'd been something. And this morning had been even better, Blair thought, remembering how Jim, his normally reserved Sentinel, had washed them off, then cuddled him and nuzzled him all over, saying he wanted to 'imprint' both of their mingled scents on his memory to remember their first time making love together. He'd nearly lost it and balled like a baby when Jim had said that; he'd only ever had one other partner who'd talked so naturally of 'making love' instead of having sex. Who'd ever have thought that macho Jim Ellison would do so? 

A loud horn jerked him back to his driving, forcing him to reluctantly push his remembrances aside until he pulled safely into a spot in the garage at CPD headquarters. He knew he was grinning foolishly as he took the elevator upstairs to Major Crimes, but Blair didn't care. He felt like a small sun was burning inside, lighting him up and warming him from head to toe. There was just no way he could contain it, nor did he want to. Let the guys think what they would; they'd never, ever guess. 

When the doors parted and he spilled out onto the fourth floor, Blair bounded down the hallway, peering impatiently through the glass walls. There. Jim. Sitting at his desk, his head up and looking straight through the glass at Blair, phone hanging loose and ignored in his hand. Blair felt that nova smile break out on his face again before carefully damping it back down. No sense in tempting fate. 

As he walked into the bullpen area, he called out cheery hellos to the other detectives sitting at their desks. Even the sight of Simon, scowl in place and looming impatiently over Rafe's desk, didn't dim Blair's effervescence this morning. 

"Hey, Rafe, H. Smile, Captain," he clapped Simon on the shoulder, "it's too beautiful a day to wear your ogre face." He bounced past before Simon could do much more than sputter around his stogie, missing the raised eyebrows following his advance. Even for his own reputation, he was more cheerful than normal. 

Approaching Jim's desk, the hustle and clatter of the office around him faded to a faint buzz as Blair's complete focus zeroed in on his partner. Damn, but the man looked awesome. He always looked awesome, Blair sighed, but immediately brightened as he reminded himself that all that awesome was now his to admire. The grin popped out on his face again. 

"Hey, Chief. You're early. Office hours over?" Jim sat back in his chair, the phone still hanging forgotten in his hand. Blair saw his nostrils flare as Jim drew a breath, and instantly heat flooded through Blair's body as he remembered their early morning activities. When the edges of Jim's mouth twitched and his eyes crinkled, Blair colored, embarrassed yet at the same time excited that Jim knew exactly what he was feeling and thinking. 

Their silent exchange only served to heighten Blair's response. "Jim...uh, yeah, I had two scheduled meetings and decided to cut out early when nobody else showed. Thought you might want to head out for some Chinese, or maybe hit the new Indian restaurant over at Cascade Place, but if you're busy," he gestured toward the useless phone without pausing, "that's okay. I should have called first, I should have-". 

"Blair, breathe." Blue eyes smiled up at him, full of secret messages. "I'm not busy and I'm really, really glad to see you." 

"Oh, man," Blair forgot the rest of the world existed about that point as he leaned in close to Jim. "How about, you know, we could, uh, like, skip the restaurant and go pick up where we left-". 

"Hey, guys, what's up? Everything okay?" Joel Taggart spoke up right behind Blair, who started badly. 

Jim never so much as blinked an eye; he'd seen Joel's approach. "Yeah, Joel, why?" 

"I don't know, you tell me. I called Blair's name five times, and he never heard me." 

Red stained Blair's cheeks and neck. "Oh, uh, sorry, I guess my mind's still rushing around thinking of everything I've got scheduled, Joel." 

Jim rescued Blair. "What'cha need, Joel? Something we can do for you?" 

The portly Captain screwed his face up and scratched his neck. "Well, yeah, I was hopin' Blair would cover me on the phones here for lunch. I'm waitin' for a call from somebody and don't want to miss it." 

Blair sighed, his visions of an hour with his partner disintegrating into thin air. "Yeah, I gu-". 

"Joel, Blair and I have plans. Can't change 'em." Jim interrupted Blair as he pushed back from the desk to stand up, making Blair scoot off the edge where he'd been perched. Grabbing his jacket from the back of his chair, Jim flung an arm around Blair's shoulders and began steering him out of the bullpen. 

"Oh, yeah, forgot. I'm so sorry, Joel," Blair looked back at the other detective, standing with raised eyebrows at his friends' hasty departure. "Can't, man, not today." 

At the door to the Major Crimes unit, Jim paused and looked at his partner, then turned back to his co-worker. "Besides, Joel, Blair doesn't cover anybody except me." 

Joel Taggert stood and watched the two men walk down the hall and stand, waiting for an elevator. They both were smiling and talking to each other. Jim's arm was locked around the little guy, with Jim looking more relaxed and happy than Joel had ever observed in the time he'd known him. He'd always wondered.... 

....but it was Jim's nice, proprietary pat on Blair's ass as they entered the empty elevator that cinched it. 

Taggart smiled as the doors closed. Plans, huh? Something told him Blair wasn't going to be quite so available to cover his lunches anymore. 

Laughing softly, Taggart wandered back into the bullpen to find Connor, wondering just what she'd be willing to forfeit for the information. If he played it right, he'd have free lunches for a month. And after that, there was Rafe...and Brown....and Rhonda....and Simon..... 

-the endand 

a cute little end it is...... 

feedback to: crickard@interpath.com, ddeshaun@yahoo.com Thanks so much for feeding the wildlife! 


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